


Lance Still Doesn't Know What's Wrong With His Car

by BrofriendWrites



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender, Voltron: Lion Voltron
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Keith (Voltron), Help, How Do I Tag, Keith and Shiro are Siblings, Kissing, Korean Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Being an Idiot, M/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, Pining Lance (Voltron), Rough Sex, Smut, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 08:53:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13807797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrofriendWrites/pseuds/BrofriendWrites
Summary: Lance’s car is acting up, so he takes it to a privately owned Auto shop where he meets possibly the hottest guy he's ever seen. If course he sinks pretty low in order to get a date, but it's a damn good date.





	Lance Still Doesn't Know What's Wrong With His Car

**Author's Note:**

> So I meant for this to be a round 3k words but it ended up being 8k and 16 pages. I'm happy with it though. I actually write it for my lovely friend embercity <3\. This is unbeta'd. Enjoy and feel free to drop a comment and kudos!

Lance still doesn’t know what’s wrong with his car. In fact, he hasn’t for about three months. But since it still ran, he hadn’t done anything about it. It wasn’t until Lance drove his roommate Hunk to work when his car was getting his tires changed that he had the bright idea to maybe get his car checked out. And it was only because Hunk was sweating and grabbing the oh-shit handle and rambling nervously to Lance about the state of his vehicle. 

“Lance why is your car rattling? Lance why is it making that squealing noise?- what if it explodes, Lance what if your car stops in the middle of a highway?!?”

 

Hunk’s overreacting had made Lance nervous enough that he ran a red light and kept going over the speed limit because his knee kept jumping. Which only made Hunk nearly hurl out the window. 

 

So here Lance is at the auto shop that Hunk told him about. 

“It’s privately owned.” Hunk told him. “They give great prices and get it done on time. My mom is friends with the owner.” 

 

Lance is not looking forward to talking to burly old straight guys that work on cars all day. He’s also not looking forward to sitting awkwardly in the waiting room sipping on sour complimentary coffee. He considers just going home and resting- he has to work later that day after all. He’s about to turn on his heel and go home but an image of his car blowing up randomly with Lance still in the driver seat forces him to walk up to the entrance. 

 

The shop is called Legendary Repair Shop. Lance likes the name; it’s very extra. The door chimes as he opens it. There’s singular hard-back chairs lining the walls and a front desk. A water cooler is perched in the corner and there's a coffee table filled with car magazines sitting next to it. There’s no one at the front desk and only one person in the waiting room- a middle-aged man on his phone. 

 

“Uh.” Lance says, walking towards the counter and peering over it. “Hello?” There’s a piece of paper held down onto the counter with clear electrical tape that reads: ‘ _ If there’s no one at the desk, come on right back!’ _ There’s also a smiley face at the bottom right hand corner of the page. Lance glances at the door behind the counter and tentatively crosses over to it, giving the other man in the waiting room and uneasy look over his shoulder. He feels like he’s doing something wrong. 

 

He finally pushes open the door, which is surprisingly light and he falls through the doorway. The waiting room opens up into a wide garage filled with about five parked cars. One is raised up about six feet into the air, which makes Lance a little nervous despite his rational mind knowing that the lift is made sturdily. 

 

Lance sees a shoe around the tire of the car nearest him- a black SUV and starts, “Hel-” as he rounds the corner to see an ass. “Ooooo.” Lance finishes, marveling at the hindquarters in tight, worn out skinny jeans as the owner of the backside straightens at the sound of Lance’s voice and turns to face him. Lance briefly mourns over not being able to stare at The Ass anymore, but only briefly. Because this guys face was also something to marvel at. His eyes are dark, and the turn down at the corners. His cheekbones are high and his jawline is angular and small. He looks like he might be Japanese, or maybe Korean? 

 

“Hi.” The guy says simply, voice level. He pushes his messy bangs out of his face with the heels of his palms, the pads of his fingers black with grease. Lance swallows, before a slow smile eases across his face. Time to turn up the charm Lancey-boy. The guy looks around his age, a little shorter than Lance himself and from what he can tell by his tight skinny jeans, edgy mullet and small stud earrings, he’s probably gay. Or bi? Lance hopes. 

 

“How may I help you?” The guy prods, a look of confusion flashing through his eyes at Lance’s silence. 

“I can think of a few ways you can help me.” Lance answers smoothly, resting his elbow on top of the car that hot worker guy had been looking at. 

His eyes narrow suspiciously. He looks very non-swayed by Lance’s flirting tactic. “Well what’s wrong with your car? Or motorcycle?” He asks, not taking the bait. 

Lance lets out a little disappointed breath, face falling but only slightly. Maybe he is straight? 

 

“I’m not sure what’s wrong with my car but it’s been making some funky noises.” Lance explains, deciding maybe a subtler approach would be more effective. 

The guy nods toward the open entrance of the garage, his bangs falling forward once more and framing his face. 

“Well pull your car around and I’ll take a look at it.” 

“Alright.” Lance agrees, letting his eyes linger a beat too long on hot worker guy’s pretty face before patting the roof of the car he’s leaning on and backing away toward the waiting room. “I’ll be around in a minute.” 

 

Lance pulls his car around, parking it right outside the garage before shutting it off and stepping out of the drivers side. The hot worker guy is bent over the car again, arm deep in the hood as he clanks around with something inside. Lance takes a moment to let his eyes roam over his figure, pausing on a strip of pale skin he can see where his shirt is riding up. He also can see the top of his underwear. Lance can just make out the tops of the letters enough see it reads, ‘Aero’. Nothing too fancy, but still cute. Lance thoroughly approves. 

 

“I just have to finish up with this customer and then I’ll have a look.” The guy calls over his shoulder to Lance when he hears the shut of a car door. Lance pauses. He knows this is his cue to go sit in the waiting room. Does he take said cue? No, no he does not. Instead he walks over to hot worker guy and lean on the car he’s currently working on. 

 

“What’s your name?” Lance asks as casually as possible. The guy jumps slightly, not having heard Lance cross the garage. There’s a few awkward beats of silence where Lance isn’t sure if the guy is going to answer him or not. 

“Keith.” He says finally, voice clipped. Lance lets out a small sigh of relief. So maybe he is gay? Or maybe he’s just being polite to his customer. Lance lets his eyes roam over hot workers guy’s- Keith’s- broad shoulders clad in a sweat-soaked red t-shirt. His shoulder blades move and tense as he fiddles with something in the hood of the car for a few moments before he asks, “You?” 

 

Lance’s heart slams in his chest and a slow, easy smile slides over his face like honey. 

“Lance. But you can call me whatever you want.” Lance’s voice drips with other promises. Keith’s arms pause. “Huh.” He says noncommittally. Maybe he’s not as impressed by Lance as Lance thought he was. Lance swallows. Time to pull out the big guns. 

“Hey… Do you know how to configure a GPS?” Lance asks, hesitant at first but forcing it out of his voice as the words fall from his mouth. 

Keith grunts again. A man of few words. Hot. “Uh. Yeah, probably.” 

“That’s great!” Lance exclaims, leaning forward, eyebrows arching mischievously. “Because I need directions to your heart.” 

 

Keith snorts and then there’s another clang. 

“Ow!” He hisses, pulling his arm out and putting his other, slightly cleaner hand to his forehead, nose scrunched up in a cute wince. 

“Did you hit your forehead?” Lance asks, concerned. 

“No shit sherlock. Did you hit your forehead as a baby?” Keith bites out. 

Lance is taken aback. “Wha- Excuse you! My mami would never drop me. Thank you very much.” 

Keith looks at him with a very blank, unconvinced expression. 

 

This guy thinks he’s so cool- if his ass wasn’t so nice Lance would have gone to another auto shop by now! He should be grateful that Lance is taking the time out of his busy life to hit on him! Lance sniffs. But then Keith pulls his hand away from his head. 

“You’re bleeding!” Lance almost shouts. “What the hell did you hit your head on? Jeez.” Before he realizes what he’s doing, Lance is leading Keith to the hardware sink at the back of the garage by his wrist, muttering about sharp car objects on the way there. 

 

Lance tears off a clean paper towel off the roll sitting on the counter and wets it with lukewarm water before slapping it to Keith’s forehead. 

“Hey!” Keith exclaims indignantly. 

“Put pressure on it.” Lance instructs distractly as he crouches down to search for something to clean the cut. “Head wounds bleed a lot no matter how small the cut it.” 

Keith huffs and he sets one hand on his hip, but the other is reluctantly holding the paper towel to his head. “I know that.” He mutters irritably. “I’m not an idiot.” 

“Do you have any peroxide?” Lance asks, glancing up at Keith from where he’s crouched in front of the open cabinet. 

“What would we need peroxide for?” Keith smarts. 

 

Lance gives him a disbelieving look. “So you’re telling me that you work here, with sharp tools all day and you don’t have any basic first-aid kit?” 

There’s a long pause as Keith glances guilty around the room. “We… might. But I can take care of it myself.”

“Don’t be stubborn. It’s easier to take care of face wounds when someone else is doing it.” 

“And how would you know that?” Keith prods. 

“I have like four sisters and two little brothers.” Lance says honestly. He pulls back his short bangs to reveal a small, ‘L’-shaped scar right below his hairline. “I’ve taken care of quite a few injuries growing up.” 

 

Keith doesn’t respond with another smartass remark so Lance takes that as a win. Instead he says, “I think there’s a first aid kit in Coran’s office.” 

“Who?” Lance asks and Keith wordlessly leads the way to a small, carpeted office right off the garage. Keith rummages around one-handed in the top drawers of the desk before pulling out a small, clear box. 

 

Lance takes it gently from Keith’s fingers before opening it up and pulling out a piece of square gauze. Keith sits down on the desk. Lance douses the gauze with the small bottle of peroxide that he found in the container before raising it to Keith’s forehead, which is smeared with grease. Lance shakes his head, a small smile on his face, and pushes Keith’s bangs out of the way with his other hand as he cleans the cut. 

“It might scar…” Lance mumbles; more to himself than to Keith. After he’s cleaned the wound and the surrounding skin, he grabs another square gauze and and roll of medical tape. 

 

“Can’t you just use a band aid?” Keith gripes. Lance glances down at his face, surprised to see a light blush painting his cheeks. 

“Band Aid won’t soak up all the blood.” Lance explains honestly. 

“So I’m just gonna look like an idiot with toilet paper taped to his forehead.” 

Lance barks a small laugh. “Yeah maybe.” He says quietly, honestly as he folds a strip of medical tape over the strip of gauze. “But now it won’t get infected or drip blood everywhere.” 

Keith shrugs as Lance throws away the dirty gauze pad into the small trash can on the floor by the desk. 

 

“Uhm… Thanks.” Keith says, voice small. He won’t meet Lance’s eyes and he rubs his upper forearm with one hand. 

“It was my fault anyway.” Lance reminds him, which probably wasn’t the best move.

Keith’s eyes shine with remembrance. “Oh yeah, you asshole.” Keith’s nose scrunches up. “What kinda’ lame pick-up line was that?!” 

“‘Lame’?!?” Lance exclaims, thoroughly offended. “That wasn’t lame! It was smooth!”

“If you consider sandpaper smooth…” Keith trails slyly. 

Lance presses his hand into Keith’s shoulder, who’s feet are now on the ground again, his back pressed into the desk. Lance pauses at the compromising position. Another easy smile graces his lips as he wets them with his tongue. Keith lets himself be leered at for a few moments, his breathing picking up slightly, before he pushes Lance away. 

“Wh-” Keith stops himself when he hears his voice shaking slightly. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

 

Lance definitely heard it though. No way in hell would Lance let something as cute and vulnerable as a voice tremble slip by his sharp ears. 

“Well we were arguing.” Lance says innocently. 

Keith’s eyebrows narrow. 

 

“Keith?” A deep voice from the garage calls. 

“Shit!” Keith hisses, ducking under and around Lance to exit the office. “Yeah?” Keith calls back. 

“There’s a customer waiting in the front room.” Lance makes out the other voice say. “What happened to your forehead?” 

 

Lance leans back against the desk with a sigh. He doesn’t feel like going out to face the other guy out there- who was probably just out on his lunch break or whatever and trusted Keith to take care of any customers they might have. He doesn’t feel like going out there because he’ll take the blame- rightfully so- and maybe get kicked out. But he knows he has to so with a grunt, Lance heaves himself up and out of the office. 

 

“Sorry.” Lance says with a raise of his hand. The new guy is tall- like 6’2 and  _ reeeally _ muscular. He looks like he could be a damn Marvel superhero. He’s got black hair that cropped close to his head on the sides and a white, longer tuft of hair on top. Lance swallows. The guy’s physique paired with the gnarly looking scar across the bridge of his nose is pretty intimidating. “I made a bad joke and Keith hurt himself laughing over how funny I am.” Lance presses a finger to the middle of his forehead. “Cut his head.” 

 

The new guy’s thick eyebrows draw together in concern and he looks at Keith to confirm Lance’s story, who shrugs.

“More or less.” He agrees. 

“Are you okay?” He asks. 

“Yeah, m’fine.” Keith shrugs off. “But the customer is gonna’ be pissed because it’s been taking so long.”    
“We can give him a discount. Are you sure you don’t need to get it checked out?” The guy pushes. 

“ _ Shiro _ .” Keith groans. “I’m  _ fine _ .” 

“Alright, alright.” The guy- Shiro says, holding his hands up in the air. “But who’s this?” He nods toward Lance, who’s eyebrows raise when he’s gestured to. 

“Our next customer.” Keith grumbles, sending Lance an icy look. 

Lance grins widely in response. 

 

“Can you finish up with the first guy?” Shiro asks Keith, setting a hand on the shorter guy’s shoulder. 

Keith shrugs him off as he walks back to the car he’d been working on previously. Rude. “Yeah, I got it.” 

“Alright.” Shiro says as he claps his hands together with finality as he walks in Lance’s direction. “What can I help you with, sir?”

 

~~~

 

Turns out there was just some bolt or something that was loose and rattling around, which Shiro fixed pretty quickly. About halfway through the time it took Shiro to fix Lance’s car, Keith finished up and sat in a hard-back chair to eat lunch out of the fast food bag that Shiro brought back with him. Lance watched Keith as he laid his food out along his legs that were crossed indian style. He ate like he was a starving man, stuffing his mouth with two and three fries at a time and taking humongous bites of the cold burger in between gulps of soda. He also sprinkled crumbs all over his lap as he did so. Lance is torn between finding it endearing or gross. What a messy eater. 

 

“All done.” Shiro announces, standing and wiping his forehead with a damp rag hanging around his neck. 

“Oh.” Lance glances up from where he had been watching Keith. “Uh. Thanks. How much-”

“I’ll give you a discount.” Shiro offers with a friendly smile. “For helping out my hopeless little brother back there.” 

“‘Little brother’?” Lance echoes. Somehow… that’s not surprising. But it also makes Shiro a lot more intimidating. “Oh uh, of course. It was no sweat. Really don’t worry about it.” Lance is feeling a lot more tired now, and more mellowed out. 

“I insist.” Shiro says. “But we have to check out at the front desk so.”   
  


Lance follows Shiro wordlessly and hands him his debit card. He’s got a few hundred on there, so whatever the cost turns out ot be he’s sure it’ll cover it. But he’s charged a surprisingly small amount. His face must display his thoughts because Shiro comments, 

“Yeah, we charge a reasonable amount. And on top of your discount…” 

“Thank you so much.” Lance gushes.    
“Anyway I can help out my fellow college student.” Shiro sighs before leaning slightly over the counter as if to tell Lance a secret. “Also, ask my brother out. I can tell he likes you.” 

Lance sputters and he feels a blush heat up his neck and face. He coughs. “Uh… Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have said anything if I wasn’t.” Shiro confirms and gives Lance a knowing smile. 

 

Lance crosses through the garage to get back to his car after giving Shiro a grateful wave of his fingers. He tries to keep a subtle eye out for Keith as he walks through the garage, but he ends up running straight into his shoulder as he rounds the back of a car. 

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Lance laughs out.    
“Watch where you’re going you damn clutz!” Keith spits, cheeks heating in either anger or embarrassment, or maybe both. 

Lance chuckles, smiling down at Keith with a fondness that hadn’t been there previously. He taps the knuckle of his index finger gently against the gauze pad taped to Keith forehead, whose nose scrunches up in response as he tilts his head slightly away. 

“What’re you-!” Keith starts before Lance interrupts him. 

“Hey.” Lance cuts him off gently. His voice deep and steady. Soft. “You’ll need someone to check that for you, huh?” 

 

Keith’s eyes are narrowed despite the blush still painting his cheeks. He shrugs one shoulder, not following what Lance is saying. 

“So how about I pick you up Saturday and bring my first aid kit?” Lance asks with a smirk, eyebrows raised in question. “I could buy you dinner while we’re at it.” 

The flush on Keith’s cheeks darkens and travels up to his ears and down to his collarbones. “You think you’re slick?” Keith demands in an attempt to avoid Lance’s question. Lance just raises his eyebrows higher on his forehead in response as he waits for Keith to continue. “Uhh… Y-you’re paying?” Keith asks hesitantly. 

“Absolutely.” Lance says immediately. “It’s my treat.” 

Keith swallows. “I guess… That would be okay.” 

 

Lance’s smile turns into a grin and he fishes his phone out of his back pocket. “Well can I have your number so we can talk about times and stuff later?” 

Keith rolls his eyes but the corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile. “Yeah, sure.” 

 

~~~~

 

Lance is totally, completely hyped. It took him forty minutes just to pick out his outfit. With the help of Pidge, Lance’s other roommate, who just so happened to not be working and minding her own business playing video games. 

Lance kept interrupting her game of Call Of Duty by standing in front of the T.V. and asking, “How about this?” 

Pidge had the same response for every outfit which was, “That looks fine, Lance. Move out of the way!” 

And yet he showed her exactly six different outfits before Hunk got home, and settled Lance’s decision with a simple, “I like the blue polo on you, Lance. It brings out your eyes.” 

“Boat shoes or Nikes?” Lance had asked. 

Hunk hummed contemplatively. “Uhmm, neither. Boat shoes are too douchey and Nikes look like you’re trying too hard. Wear your old school Vans.”

 

Now Lance is staring into the fold down mirror above the steering wheel and fussing with his hair, which is refusing to lay the right way despite him using his good, Calvin Klein gel in it. He just fired off a text to Keith’s number which is now saved in his phone under ‘Hot Worker Guy’ telling him that he’s here. 

 

            He's picking up Keith from the gym he goes to. It makes sense.not really smart to ask a guy you barely know to drive to your address. Keith seems like the gym type. Lance is the work from home type. He does yoga and stretches to help with his anxiety before doing some pull ups on the bar hanging in his bathroom doorway and working with some dumbbells. Lance is suddenly curious to know how much weight he can lift. 

 

The front door to the gym opens then and Lance jerks his chin up, scrambling to close the mirror and look casual. 

 

Keith walks out of the gym doors, waving goodbye to someone over his shoulder, gym bag slung over one arm. He's dressed nice: A button-up shirt that is left open at the collar to reveal his collarbones, and a pair of dark skinny jeans that seem to fit him well. His feet are in a pair of gray, high-top converse and his hair is damp, like he just got out of the shower. 

 

Lance’s heart is trying it's best to beat itself out of his chest as he steps out of the car and attempts to casually wave Keith over. 

“Hey Keith!” Lance calls cheerfully, a wide grin stretching his cheeks. 

A more subdued, but still very charming and kinda sexy smile slides it's way onto Keith's face as his eyes fall on his date. 

“Hey Lance.” Keith greets as he gets closer, voice low and smooth. Lance fights the shiver that tried to wreck through his shoulders.

 

“What cafe are we going to?” Keith asks as he climbs into the passenger side and reaches behind himself to pull his seatbelt on, setting his gym bag at his feet. 

“Do you want to set that in the back?” Lance asks, gesturing to Keith's bag with a raise of his eyebrows. 

“Oh. Uh, sure.” Keith agrees before he lifts the bag and hands it to Lance, who sets it on the seat in the back before sitting behind the steering wheel.

 

“I thought we could go to this cafe that my friend Allura owns.” Lance says to Keith's previous question. “It's called the Princess Cafe.” 

Keith raises his eyebrows suspiciously at that. “‘Princess Cafe’?” He echoes. 

Lance nods with a short. “It's not as cute and pink as you're picturing it. It's pretty cozy actually. And I get a discount.” He winks at Keith when he says the last sentence, flashing a cheesy grin. Keith groans with a small laugh and tips his head back against the headrest. 

“My date is cheeeap.” He complains, but the upward curve of his lips show that he's no completely serious. 

 

                “Well I  _ am _ a college student.” Lance jokes. 

“Well  _ I _ have high standards.” Keith snarks back. 

“You can't get any higher than me.” Lance assures him, eyebrows furrowing as he passes the slow car in front of him. 

“Hmm.” Keith hums noncommitably and Lance shoots him a heated look. 

“You want me to prove it Smart Guy?”

“If you're able.” Keith challenges. 

“Oh I'm  _ able _ to. And more. Prepared to get knocked off your smart-ass feet.” Lance promises, slowing the car down when his cruise control beeps. 

“I am smart.” Keith agrees calmly. 

 

Lance brakes at a red light and turns to give Keith a glare. His hair is more dry now, and looks very fluffy and is still only slightly damp at the ends that fall around his face. Lance’s belly flops and heat rushes under his skin. He has the sudden, very strong urge to kiss Keith's smirking mouth. It might just be Lance’s imagination but he swears Keith's lids fall a bit lower as he stares Lance down, matching Lance’s intensity down to a T. 

 

“The light’s green.” Keith mumbles, voice almost gruff. Lance jumps slightly at his words and a car behind him laying on their horn. He flips them off through his rearview mirror as he slowly let's off the brakes. 

Keith snorts. “Road rage?” He asks and Lance gives a small shake of his head. 

“People beeping at me zero point three seconds after the light turns green make me wanna park my car and set up a tent on top of it.” 

“Oh my god.” Keith says with a quiet chuckle. “I would pay to see that.” 

“I bet you'd pay to see a lot of things.” Lance replies without hesitation, and thought. 

Keith raises his eyebrows in shock for a few seconds, before a laugh bubbles out of his chest. “You asshole.” He giggles. 

Lance risks a glance at his date, and the smile on his face, showing teeth and all, makes him want to kiss Keith hard enough to swallow all of his laughter. 

 

He does give in to the urge, but only slightly, and takes a chance threading his free hand that's not on the steering wheel with Keith's fingers. Keith sends Lance a mildly surprised look but then squeezes Lance’s hand in his before looking back to the road. 

 

The rest of the drive to the cafe is a short one. Only about five minutes pass before Lance is pulling in and parking in the mildly crowded parking lot. It's about lunch time-three- so there might be a line to order. Lance might be able to get the coffee earlier if Matt is working right now though. Matt is Pidge’s older brother, and he's been working at the cafe for as long as Lance has known him. That's how Lance got to know Allura too. 

 

Like Lance suspected, there's a bit of a line. But on the bright side, there looks to be plenty of open tables. 

 

                  Lance really likes the way Allura decorated her cafe. The lighting is warm and washes over the orange plush chairs and worn, dark brown leather sofa in the corner of the cafe. The bathroom doors are at the very back, side by side. The doors are made from cherrywood and the ‘ladies’ and ‘agent’s are engraved into the door. The tables are also made of cherrywood. Some are round and some along the wall are rectangular shaped. The shit all have seat cushions. Some are brown and some are orange. There's a bookcase filled with stacked books and realistic-looking electric lanterns. It all feels very homey and smells like coffee beans and cinnamon and pastries. 

 

“This place is nice. It's like a side road Starbucks.” Keith says from beside Lance. Lance glances down at his date and smiles. 

“Yeah.” He agrees. “They make really good coffee though.” 

“Oh yeah?” Keith wonders aloud as the two of them step forward in line, trailing behind a tall red-haired woman teetering in black stilettos. 

 

“So I would recommend the dark roasted vanilla latte. I put a little cinnamon in mine too.” Lance says to Keith, leaning over and keeping his voice low. Keith's nose scrunches up cutely. 

“I like tea better.” Keith whispers back. “And they have a large selection here so.” 

“Tea, huh?” Lance asks slyly. Keith nods, oblivious to Lance’s mischievous tone as his eyes scan over the menu above him. “Hipster-" Lance coughs not-so-inconspicuously. 

Keith punches Lance’s forearm hard. “I just like tea you asshole.” He says, eyes narrowed but a smile on his face as Lance rubs at his arm. 

“Owwww~” Lance whines. “That really hurt you damn mullet.” 

Keith nudges Lance to take a step forward with his shoulder. “Order already.” He demands. 

 

“I'm going.” Lance snips back before turning toward the barista and giving him a friendly smile. “Matt!” Lance greets. Matt gives a wide smile and leans forward to brace himself on the counter. 

“Hey Lance, how's it goin’?” He asks. 

“It's great actually. This is my date, Keith.” Lance gestures to Keith with his hand. 

 

Keith's cheeks are dusted a light pink at hearing Lance call him his date so shamelessly. He gives a small, casual wave. 

 

Lance thinks that Keith has it easy. Lance had to meet Shiro a few days ago, who's a  _ lot _ more intimidating than short, dirty-blonde Matt with his shaggy skater hair, non-scarred face and small frame. 

 

Matt looks surprised, but pleasantly so as he turns his smile to Keith. “Hey, nice to meet ya’.” He greets. “I'm Lance’s friend Matt.” 

Keith nods. “Nice to meet you.” He echoes politely. 

“Alright, what're you two ordering?” Matt asks the couple. 

“I'd like a dark roasted vanilla latte with extra whipped cream on top.” Lance quotes. 

“And I'd like a green tea with honey.” Keith says. “And a crepe.” He adds as an afterthought. Lance shoots him a grin. 

“Is that all?” Matt asks. 

“Yes.” Lance answers. 

 

Keith goes to fish his wallet out of his tight back pocket, but Lance stops him. 

“Don't worry about it.” Lance tells him. 

“You sure?” Keith asks, his head tilting cutely as he pauses mid-reach, dark eyes aimed up. 

“Yeah.” Lance says before swallowing harshly. “I'm sure.” 

 

Lance watches Keith's ass as he walks over to wait at the pick-up counter as Lance pays for their order. He hears Matt snicker as he hands him his card and Lance recently tears his eyes away from Keith to look at him. 

“What?” Lance asks, a confused smile tugging up the corner of his mouth. 

“You're smitten.” Matt says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

“Shut up.” Lance says with a laugh as he takes his card back and slides it into his wallet. “I'll see you later.” Lance waves as he walks away. 

“See you later Lance.” Matt agrees before he greets the next customer. 

 

“They don't take a long time to make the orders so it should only be a minute.” Lance says as he gently sets his hand on Keith's lower back as he comes up behind him. He tries to ignore the twitch he feels in Keith's back muscles. 

“That's goo-”

 

“Lance!” A barista that Lance doesn't recognize sets two mugs on the counter and a pastry wrapped up in tissue paper. Lance grabs it all carefully off the counter. 

“I can take my cup.” Keith offers but Lance shakes his head with a grin. Keith rolls his eyes and reaches forward anyway. 

“Let me at least take the crepe you loser.” He demands as he takes the pastry that's balanced precariously between Lance’s fingers. 

 

They sit down across from one another at a round table. Keith takes a hesitant sip of his drink and his eyebrows raise in surprise. 

“Wow.” He voices. 

Lance nods. “I know.” He agrees as he drinks from his own cup. “So,” He starts after. “Are you in college?” 

“Yeah.” Keith confirms. “I take classes over at SF.” 

“Oh really? I go there too actually.” Lance says, trying to keep the excitement from his voice. “What are you majoring in?” 

“Engineering.” Keith answers after taking another sip from his straw. Lance tries not to be distracted by Keith's lips wrapping around the plastic but finds it too difficult. “You?” Keith asks. 

“Interior design.” Lance answers smoothly. 

“Oh.” Keith says, blinking. “That's pretty cool. And useful.” 

“It pays well too.” Lance says with a small chuckle. 

Keith nods. “Yeah?” He questions. “Where are you from?” 

“Miami.” Lance answers. “I'm Cuban actually.” 

“I'm not surprised.” Keith admits. 

“What about you?” 

“Texas.” Keith says, giving Lance an amused, knowing look as he takes another drink. 

“‘Texas’?” Lance echoes. “Really?” 

“Mhm.” Keith hums. “My parents are from there but me and my dad moved to Florida after my mom died.” 

 

Lance winces. “Oh. I'm-"

“Don't say sorry.” Keith cuts him off. “It was a long time ago. I can barely remember her anymore.” 

Lance nods before pausing to look over his shoulder when he hears a group of people come into the cafe. They're pretty loud and Lance hopes he doesn't have to tell for Keith to be able to hear him. 

“Did you have a southern accent?” Lance asks to change the subject. 

Keith smirks before saying in a low, southern drawl, “Well o’course I did.”

 

Lance feels as if all the air has been knocked from his lungs and a shiver runs down his spine.  

“Well y’know.” Lance starts. “I can speak fluent Spanish.” 

Lance swear he can see Keith's pupils dilate. “Oh yeah?” Keith breathes. 

Lance leans forward then, bracing his hands on the counter before speaking close to Keith's ear in case any Spanish-speakers are eavesdropping nearby. “Quiero inclinarte sobre esta mesa y hacer cosas muy alegres.” 

 

When Lance sits back down in his seat, Keith's face is bright red. 

“What did you say?” Keith asks, voice hushed. Lance can barely hear him over the newest customers that came into the cafe. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Lance challenges with a wink and a sly grin. Lance finds he quite enjoys Keith’s blush. A lot. 

“It’s hard to hear in here.” Keith says after a few moments, gaze trained at the table as he takes a long slurp from his straw. 

“Yeah.” Lance agrees over the noise. He studies Keith’s face and posture, trying to put all those articles he read about body language back when he was thinking about becoming a therapist to good use. Keith is absently picking at the sleeve on his coffee cup, which could just be a habit but he hasn’t been doing it the entire time he’s been sitting, so maybe he’s fidgeting. Fidgeting means… Nervous? Or maybe it meant you had something on your mind you wanted to say. His gaze aimed away might also point to nervousness. He hasn’t been nervous this whole time though, so Lance wonders… Is Keith nervous or turned on? 

 

Lance’s question is answered when someone behind Keith shouts something to his friend and bumped into the back of Keith’s chair and Keith blurts, 

“Do you wanna’ get out of here?”

His blush darkens after the words are out of his mouth, as if he’s surprised at himself that he said what he wanted to say. Lance feels his eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Yeah.” He says, his voice gruffer than he’d been expecting. He clears his throat and stands, picking his own cup up before holding out a hand in offer to take Keith’s cup too. Keith takes a last sip of his tea before he hands Lance his cup and stands. 

 

Lance throws the cups into the recycle bin before turning back to Keith, who’s stood from their table and is now walking toward the door of the cafe. Lance again finds himself watching Keith’s ass. 

 

Lance unlocks the car as he gets close and Keith leans off the side of the car where he had been leaning and unfolds his arms to climb into the passenger side. Lance follows suit on the drivers’ side. 

 

As soon as he shuts the door and starts to turn toward Keith, the back of his neck is grabbed roughly by long, thin fingers, and a soft pliable mouth is pushed against Lance’s own. Lance, caught off guard, takes a few seconds to start responding. But when he feels Keith wet tongue swipe along his bottom lip, Lance opens his mouth with a groan deep in his throat and wraps his arms around Keith’s midriff, pulling his as close as possible with the middle console between them. The originally desperate kisses slow down to lazy and deep. They make Lance’s stomach flip and his blood flow change to aim down south. 

 

Lance cards his fingers through Keith’s thick hair and tugs on it lightly. At the sound of Keith’s breath hitching, he does it again, but harder this time. Keith lets out a small moan before pulling away enough to say in between kisses: 

“You’re so damn-” A kiss on the lips. “Annoying. I honestly don’t even-” A kiss placed on Lance’s jaw. “Know why I like you but you’re so fucking-” A nip to Lance’s earlobe that causes him to shiver. “Nice and stupid and-” Keith licks a strip up Lance’s neck before nipping the skin between his teeth. “ _ Sexy  _ that I can’t even-”

 

Lance lets out a groan then and tugs Keith’s mouth back up to his and kissing him hard and long. 

“Shut up.” Lance pants when they separate. Lance pulls away then, tugging his seat belt over his shoulder and clicking it into place and putting the car in drive. 

“Where are we going?” Keith asks, and Lance feels a roll of satisfaction in his gut when Keith sounds winded. 

“My apartment.” Lance says shortly before glancing at a red-faced Keith out of the corner of his eye. “Unless you don’t want to.” 

Keith shakes his head, his bangs falling into his eyes. “No, it’s fine.” 

Lance smiles and nods. “Good.” 

 

~~~~~

 

As soon as Lance parks the car, he’s climbing out. So is Keith, which isn’t surprising considering he had been palming at his dick the whole drive here. 

 

Lance marches up to his apartment and unlocks the door. The complex he stays in is nice. And cheap. It’s right across from the college and is only for college students. It’s a three-bedroom but Lance is pretty sure neither of his roommates are home right now. At five thirty Hunk should be at work and Pidge at class so Lance doesn’t hesitate to push Keith up against the wall of the stairs and kiss him roughly. 

 

Keith gives a small squeak but then chuckles against Lance’s mouth as he kisses back. Keith rakes his hands up the back of Lance’s shirt, dragging his nails lightly over Lance’s shoulder blades. 

“My room is upstairs.” Lance promises, voice low and breath coming in pants. In response, Keith wordlessly Leads Lance by the hand up the stairs and onto the second floor. “First door.” Lance informs him and Keith pushes it open. 

 

Lance is briefly glad that he’s not a messy person and that the only thing that’s not neat in his room is his unmade bed and his cluttered school desk. He’s pulled from those thoughts very quickly though because Keith is pulling Lance’s shirt over his head and running his hands over his hips and abs. 

 

“You go to the gym?” Keith asks. 

“No.” Lance grins. “I work out at home sometimes though.” 

Keith rolls his eyes. “Same difference.” He breathes against Lance’s lips before attacking them with his own again. “Also,” He pants as he pulls away. “I also don’t give out on the first date. Just to let you know.”

“I’m supposed to believe that when you have me half naked?” Lance huffs, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth even as his eyes narrow in disbelief.

“Yes.” Keith answers smoothly even as he sinks to his knees, keeping eye contact with Lance as he does so. “You’re supposed to believe it and feel very special.” 

 

Lance sucks in a breath through his teeth as Keith palms his erection tented in his pants. 

“Damn.” Keith marvels, giving Lance a little squeeze. “How big are you packing in here?”

“Big enough that it hurts when I have a boner with pants on.” Lance tells him.  _ Hint, hint _ . 

“I can’t unbutton your pants from this angle, idiot.” Keith manages to say, sounding irritated while sporting his own erection and flushed cheeks. Lance unbuttons his pants regardless and Keith hooks his fingers under the waistline to pull them down. Lance sighs in relief as the pressure of his jeans are taken off his swollen dick. 

 

The sigh turns into a gasp when Keith mouths at Lance’s shaft and Lance’s fingers go to Keith’s hair, tangling up in the dark locks at the base of his scalp and pulling slightly as Keith runs his tongue over the head of his dick. Lance gently pulls Keith’s head back a bit and pulls down his underwear low enough to let his dick bob free. It pokes Keith’s cheek, who's busy looking up at Lance with dark, sultry eyes. 

 

Lance’s head falls back as Keith wraps his pretty pink lips around the tip of his dick. 

“Oh god.” He breathes, hips stuttering as he struggles not to thrust into Keith’s hot mouth. Lance straightens his neck so that he can watch Keith work his dick over, his hand wrapped around what he can't reach. His head bobs up and down a few times before he presses himself as far as he can go, moving his hand and swallowing around Lance and- Lance let's out an aggressive groan and tightens his grip on Keith's hair. He feels his stomach stir and the pleasure increase as Keith sets a brutal pace, gagging himself a few times as he struggles to work his throat around the head. 

 

“Keith.” Lance hisses. “KeithKeithKeith.” Lance tightens his fingers in Keith’s hair, gently pulling him off his dick. “You’re gonna’ make me cum.” He pulls Keith to his feet. “And I don’t want to yet.” Lance breathes before kissing Keith. He tastes himself on his tongue- the salt of precum- and he moans softly against his lips. 

 

Lance pulls Keith’s shirt over his head, making his hair stick up around his head. Lance runs his hands over Keith’s torso, which is long and narrow and wrapped in tight cords of muscle. 

“You’re so hot.” Lance breathes and Keith gives a lazy chuckle, head lolling to the side as Lance nuzzles at his pale neck with his nose Lance kisses down Keith’s throat and nips his way back up to suck under Keith’s ear. Lance dances his fingers down Keith’s chest and abs, making him shiver. Lance unbuttons Keith’s jeans and pushes them down his hips, still sucking on his neck as he slowly backs Keith up

 

Lance has his hand shimmied into Keith pants and is palming at his erection when the back of Keith’s knees hit the back of the bed and he sits down, Lance’s hand slipping out of his pants as he straddles Keith’s hips and scoots him farther up the bed. Keith’s arms slip around Lance’s shoulders and he kisses him hard, running his fingers up the back of Lance’s head and through his short hair. Lance pulls away to pull Keith’s jeans the rest of the way off his hips and rolls them off of his thin, socked feet before tossing them onto the floor of his bedroom. Lance pulls off Keith’s briefs too, which are red like his t-shirt. Lance wraps his fingers around Keith’s erection and pumps his hand slowly. Keith gasps and pushes his hips off the bed, searching for further friction, his toes curling in his socks against Lance’s sheets. 

 

Lance grapples for the drawer in his night stand for a few moments before yanking it open and shuffling around for the small bottle of lube he keeps in there. Lance’s hand stutters in it’s movements and Keith thrusts up into his hand, head thrown back against the pillow and eyes squeezed shut, mouth parted as he pants. Lance uncaps the lube with the tip of his thumb and Keith pauses at the sound of it, waiting to see what Lance’ll do. 

 

Lance pulls his hand off Keith’s dick to squeeze some lube onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm the substance up before he readjusts the two of them on the bed, crouching between Keith’s legs. He smears some lube onto Keith’s puckered hole, and Keith’s thigh muscles jump. Lance glances up at him. 

“This okay?” He asks. Keith nods, visibly forcing himself to relax into the bedding. Lance is gentle as he slowly screws one finger into Keith’s tight opening, the ring of muscle clenching around him. Lance raises an eyebrow. “You ever bottomed before?” He asks curiously. Keith nods again. 

“Yeah.” He says. “It’s just been a while.” His cheeks flush impossibly redder as he admits that and he avoids looking Lance directly in the eye. 

 

Lance nods silently, looking to where his finger is being swallowed up as he slides it in and out. He presses the tip of his middle finger to Keith’s entrance and  _ slowly _ wiggles it in alongside his index finger. Keith winces but doesn’t make an audible noise and Lance waits a few seconds to let Keith get used to the feeling of two fingers before he begins to move them in and out. After another minute, Lance begins to gently scissor his fingers, and Keith’s head falls back against the pillow. Lance pauses. 

“Are you-” Lance starts.

“It burns good.” Keith nearly growls out, his hips thrusting back onto Lance’s fingers as his hands reach up to fist the pillow by his head. 

 

Lance finds himself grinning as he licks a strip up Keith’s dick, which has him hissing and bucking his hips. Lance speeds his fingers up a bit, swirling them around as he does so, curling to search for that certain-

“Ah!” Keith cries out and his dick tenses long enough that Lance thinks he might cum, but he doesn’t and his hips fall back on to the bed. 

“There it is.” Lance breathes and Keith lets out a whine that turns into a frustrated groan. “Needy, are we?” Lance asks, even though he himself is rock hard and aching.  

“Fuck just  _ fuck me _ .” Keith pleads and Lance swallows hard. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” Lance says quietly as he adds a third finger. “Like you said, I’m big.”

  
  


Keith lets out a disappointed sigh. 

“Here, turn over onto your belly.” Lance instructs, removing his fingers long enough for Keith to obey his request. Lance groans when he does so, running his hands appreciatively over Keith’s round, firm backside and thick thighs. Lance teasingly lets his fingers slip between Keith’s cheeks a few times, his fingers catching on his rim before he finally pushes into Keith again, scissoring with three fingers. Keith groans into the pillow, low and soft, before he pants, pressing his hips back. 

 

“Don't hold in your moans.” Lance requests, raising himself up so his he's straddling Keith's hips. Lance presses a soft kiss at the base of his neck, relishing Keith's little sighs and grunts that turn into a needy whine as Lance pulls his fingers out and wipes the lube onto Keith's hole. He reaches into his nightstand and fishes around for the Magnum box he keeps in there before he finds it and rips open a condom with his teeth and slides it on over his dick.  “Can I put it in?” Lance asks breathily by Keith's ear. 

“ _ Please _ .” Keith gasps in response, grinding his hips up. 

 

Lance takes himself in hand then and presses the head against Keith's opening, pressing down on the ring of muscle for a few seconds before it finally stretches around Lance’s shaft. Lance groans as he sinks in and bottoms out, Keith echoing the sound. Lance pauses for a few seconds to let Keith get adjusted. 

“If you don't move right  _ now _ , god help me I'll- Ah!” Keith's rant is cut off as Lance slides out and snaps his hips forward. 

“You'll what?” Lance taunts as he thrusts in again. Keith just shakes his head, unable to respond as he's pounded into. Lance straightens to get a better angle, holding Keith's hips in a bruising grip and placing his thumb at the base of his dick to aim it slightly downwards and- 

“Oh my shit.” Keith gasps. “That feels so  _ good _ .” 

 

Lance grins to himself triumphantly, but his grin quickly fades into a look of pleasure as he thrusts into Keith, watching himself get swallowed up by that ring of muscle. 

“You're so tight.” Lance compliments, letting a hand fall onto Keith's backside with a pop. Keith moans.  _ Loud _ . So loud he seems to surprise himself, smacking a hand over his mouth in embarrassment. Lance’s hips stutter momentarily before he leans forward, nipping at the back of Keith's neck. “You like getting spanked?” Lance asks against the she'll of Keith's ear. 

Keith nods, his arms going out from under him then, his face buried in the bedding as he pushes his hips back. 

 

Lance changes the pace to long, hard strokes, and Keith is squirming on every thrust. 

“You're so big, shit.” Lance hears Keith pant, voice high-pitched and cracking on the last word. 

‘ _ He’s so cute.’ _ Lance thinks as he adjusts himself to hopefully hit Keith's prostate straight on. And by the change in pitch and volume of his moans, Lance is pretty sure be achieved his goal. 

 

“Faster.” Keith demands and Lance pulls out. Keith reaches behind himself as if to grab Lance’s dick and put it back inside himself manually but Lance flips him over onto his back and sinks back in before he has the chance to. Keith looks totally  _ wrecked _ . His lips are red and kiss-swollen, his hair is a messy halo around his head, his eyes are heavy lidded and he's flushed red all the way down his chest which heaves with each small groan that he emits. 

 

Lance groans at the sight and kisses Keith as he speeds up his hips. Keith keens against Lance’s lips, hooking his legs around Lance’s hips and curling his fingers into Lance’s hair. 

“Faster.” Keith moans, tipping his head back into the pillow and screwing his eyes shut for a few seconds. 

“I'm gonna cum if I speed up.” Lance admits, nipping at Keith's neck hard enough to leave a red splotch. 

“It's fine.” Keith assures him, digging into Lance's ass with the heels of his feet. 

 

Lance pistons his hips, trying to aim for Keith's prostate on every thrust. A familiar stirring starts in Lance’s gut as Keith's moans get louder. Lance can feel his thrusts start to get sloppy as his hips twitch but he keeps up the brutal pace as his orgasm starts hurtling toward him before hitting him like a semi truck. Lance groans and sinks as deep as possible into Keith’s tight heat. Keith is panting, his forearm thrown over his eyes and a quick inspection tells Lance that Keith came untouched all over his stomach, erection now flagging against his abs. 

 

“Shit.” Lance breathes and Keith nods in agreement behind his arm. Lance gently moves Keith's arm and kisses him softly while he pulls out, peppering kisses along his cheeks as he ties the condom off and tosses it into the trash can by his dresser. Keith wraps his arms around Lance’s shoulders and let's himself get spoiled with kisses. “You can come untouched?” Lance asks curiously, pulling away slightly to look at Keith's face. 

Keith's cheeks flush and he avoids Lance’s gaze. “Not- not usually.” He admits. 

Lance raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh yeah?” He teases. 

“Get up.” Keith doesn't answer Lance, instead lightly smacking his forearm. “You're laying in my cum.” 

 

Lance let's out a laugh but reluctantly gets up to grab a wet washcloth from the bathroom. Keith nudges Lance’s butt with a socked toe as he walks away and Lance winks over his shoulder, hearing Keith snort. 

 

Lance wipes Keith up after he cleans himself, leaving a little trail of kisses up Keith's chest as he does so. Keith let's out a little contented sigh and buries his fingers into Lance’s hair. Lance plants soft kisses against Keith's lips once he makes his way up Keith's torso. Lance tosses the rag onto his nightstand and nuzzles Keith's neck, which smells like sweat and sex and their intermingling scents. 

 

“Should I go now?” Keith asks, sounding tentative. Lance whips his head up. 

“Why would you leave?” He asks and Keith chuckles after studying Lance’s face for a moment. 

“I didn't know if you were just looking to score or-” 

“No.” Lance cuts him off. “I don't do that. I'd actually like to nap and then ask you out on another date- one that doesn't end in sex.” 

“Would you complain if it does end with sex?” Keith asks, watching an eyebrow. 

 

Lance tilts his head, considering. 

“No, probably not.” He admits. “But I wanna’ get to know you.” Lance nips at Keith's nose. 

“You will.” Keith promises on a sleepy sigh. “Just sleep for now.”

  
  



End file.
